


Afterwards

by sheafrotherdon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-21
Updated: 2008-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-coital boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterwards

"God," John manages, chest heaving, eyelids so heavy he can barely lift them. " _Rodney_." He fumbles a hand to the back of Rodney's neck, thumbs the damp ends of Rodney's hair. Rodney's softening inside him, and the thought makes the muscles in John's belly contract and jump again, makes him shiver.

"Mmmmph." Rodney trembles head to toe, sprawled on top of him, pants into the damp crease of his shoulder. "Know." He drags his nose up to the curve of John's neck. "I'll . . ." He lets out a long, hitching breath, spreads one palm against the mattress and angles his hips, pulls away as gently as he can.

John groans softly, stretches out his legs and reaches up to hook his fingers around the top of the bed, arches his back and feels his vertebrae pop. He slumps again with a pleased little hum and half-smiles at the way Rodney's watching him with naked affection on his face.

"God," Rodney whispers, touching the inside of John's wrist. "You just . . ." He ducks his head, cheeks pinking. "I'll go get – "

John grumbles in the back of his throat. "Stay."

Rodney huffs a breath that sounds a lot like _I don't think so_. "You're disgusting."

John frowns. Rodney always gets his words back first, and that's damn unfair. "Staaaaay."

"Oh, stop being such a baby," Rodney chides, but he sounds pretty fond of him, and John rolls onto his side, rubs his cheek against the pillow, begins to drowse as Rodney pads off to the bathroom. He starts awake when a washcloth touches his belly, cotton rough against skin and come and hair.

"We're _sleeping_ now," John says firmly, as if he has any special sway in these matters, and Rodney snorts.

"Sure," he says, throwing the washcloth aside. "Pouty."

"M'not," John protests as Rodney rounds the bed.

"Are too."

" _Not_ ," he insists with a voice that he realizes – belatedly – sounds a lot like a whine. Rodney crawls in bed beside him, and that's better – warmth and solid bulk and the smell of Rodney's sweat. John inches closer, rubs his nose against Rodney's collarbone.

"This isn't sleeping," Rodney points out, and he's laughing a little, pressing up close against John and sliding a hand to his ass.

"Shut up," John mumbles, closing his eyes, and he smiles a little when Rodney's lips brush his, makes a half-hearted attempt to kiss him back. Rodney's all around him – scent and body heat and touch and breath – and . . . happy, John thinks. This is what happy feels like. "Like," he manages, muscles going lax, and he's fast asleep before anything else is said.


End file.
